Acceptance
by Erin Of Earth
Summary: What happened to Norm after the movie? How will he recover from lost love? Not finished, may never be. Let me know what you think in the reviews.


**A/N: This is just a quick little blurb I wrote one day when an idea caught in my head and I just had to get it out. Not my best work, but I think I could expand on the idea. I'm currently working on a larger, Avatar-based fic but I might consider continuing this one of it gets good reviews. Be sure to tell me what you think so I can decide. (:**

No one tripped.

Ever.

No one ever fell, stumbled, stubbed their toe, or ran into branches that seemingly appeared from nowhere.

It drove Norm insane. Why was he so clumsy? Didn't he have nearly the same body as everyone else? The Avatars had only a few minor differences in anatomy that separated them from Na'vi, with eyebrows and a fifth finger being among the most noticeable. Was it his toes? He didn't have an opposable thumb-toe. Maybe that was it. Yes. It was his toe.

Norm peered sadly down at his blue, non-opposable toe from his perch at the side of the hollow. The tree of souls dominated the center of the area, with what was left of the Na'vi population weaving among her branches. He spied Jake, permanently fixed in his avatar body, chatting with Mo'at again about important things... Norm wished he could help, but he knew he couldn't do anything that anyone was interested in. He wasn't even sure why he'd asked Max to fix up his avatar after it'd been shot. He didn't belong here. He wasn't like Jake.

Norm found his eyes wandering upwards, through the speckled canopy and towards the brilliant blue sky. It was a beautiful day. It was a horrible day. Every day was horrible without her. He forced his eyes back to the ground and picked idly at a thread on his pants. He had to stop looking for her. She wouldn't come flying back any time soon... He had heard her on the radio. He had seen the explosion with his own two eyes.

"Norm, I love you." Clipped. Blunt. Military-esque.

Trudy's last words echoed around in his head, ricocheting relentlessly off the walls of his scattered brain. Between the loss of the only girl who'd ever loved him, having been abandoned by his race as

they were forced off the moon, and being surrounded by victims of a large-scale tragedy, Norm was feeling immensely depressed. He didn't belong anywhere. If he went back to Earth, the RDA would be there. He knew he could never trust the RDA again. But he didn't quite fit in on Pandora, either. He was a scientist, and science wasn't exactly emphasized in the Na'vi culture. He wasn't strong, or graceful, or powerful. He was tall, but he was gangly. He didn't know how to shoot an arrow. He didn't want to run around in a loincloth all day.

Norm sighed, got up, scraped his arm on a thorn, cursed, and continued walking. He then realized that he didn't have anywhere he particularly wanted to go, and sat back down. Why bother?

He knew why he'd asked Max to fix his avatar. Every time he was in his human body, the crushing feelings of loss were impossible to keep away. He'd only seen Trudy a few times in this body, so it was easier to pretend like he wasn't dying on the inside when his hands felt cold and empty. Her hand had been to small to hold comfortably when he was in his avatar, so he'd opted to run the links most of the time.

Norm was tired of moping. Norm had not had enough moping. Norm flopped over in confusion.

He quickly jolted back up, as he had flopped directly on top of his queue. He picked up the long, thin braid and ran his fingers over it, trying to soothe the sensitive nerves from their trauma. He didn't know what he was supposed to do with the stupid thing. He wasn't going to be riding an alien horse any time soon, and there was no way he was getting on one of those Leonopterix creatures. For an amazing evolutionary development, this world-interface-plug sure didn't do anything helpful for Norm. An obsolete USB drive would have been more useful.

Norm pondered the inefficiency of USB technology for a while, then went back to feeling blank and empty. Empty like his cold, unfeeling heart.

Okay, he was starting to sound a little melodramatic there. What was it that Trudy had said before the battle? Something about a tactical plot that didn't involve martyrdom.

Norm needed one of those.

He needed a psychiatrist.

**Good? Bad? Meh? Please let me know in the reviews. We'll never know what happened to Norm if you don't tell me...**


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